


Release

by magistrainartis



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 12:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3410012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magistrainartis/pseuds/magistrainartis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iron Bull knows what an exhausted Adaar needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Release

Adaar’s palms rested on the war table; he only wished he could lay his head down with them. His advisors continued to mutter about reports, but none of their talk stuck in the Inquisitor’s mind. Since Adamant, one battle had led into another, requests from friends couldn’t be denied, and he’d thrown himself and his allies against a high dragon only to end up retreating in defeat before they were all burnt alive. Ignoring Josephine’s recount of the latest Orlesian court intrigue, Adaar picked up an iron token shaped like a closed fist and absently rolled it over his fingers. His head pounded and his shoulders ached, and all he wanted was to announce that he’d had enough. Instead, he looked up to see his advisors staring at him - Josephine with exasperation, Leliana with curiosity, and Cullen with concern.

Adaar rubbed his temples. “I’m sorry. Can we deal with this tomorrow? I’m feeling...unwell.”

Josephine’s expression softened. “Of course, Inquisitor. I know you find it trying to make decisions related to our noble benefactors. Perhaps you would allow me to send a representative rather than attending the banquet yourself?”

Adaar smiled gratefully, “Thank you. If you don’t mind?” The others nodded their assent, and the Inquisitor walked out of the room before they could think of other matters to trouble him. Usually he enjoyed working in the war room planning the Inquisition’s strategies, but all he wanted this evening was his bed.

Adaar had hoped to slip quietly through the great hall to the entrance for his quarters, so his stomach clenched with frustration when he left the war room corridor to see Sera waiting for him. Adaar forced himself to smile and hoped his eyes didn’t look as exhausted as he felt. Talking to Sera was no task for weary men.

“Well you’re not in the tavern, so I’m guessing you’re looking for trouble?”

Sera grinned, “Have you seen the noble bitch walking around with a nug under her arm? She’s petting it like it’s some bunny or somethin’, talking about how adorable this little foreign creature is. I can’t wait to get her in front of a bunch of other high-powered pricks at dinner and let her know she’s holding a naked dwarven rat in her lap!” Sera’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Want to stay for the fun?”

Adaar’s smile became real for a moment, and part of him was tempted. But the weight of the last week bore down on him as quickly as it had been relieved. “Not tonight, Sera. Try not to undo all Josephine’s hard work, alright?”

A frown flashed across Sera’s face, and she cocked her head. “You’re alright, right? You didn’t get stabbed too hard by those baddies today?”

Adaar shook his head. “I’m alright. Tired. I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll sit on the roof for a bit, alright?”

Sera nodded and, uncharacteristically, said nothing further. Relieved, Adaar quickly strode down the room and slipped through his chamber door. As soon as he was away from the buzzing in the great hall, he relaxed a little. A servant had lit the fire in his hearth, so the room was warm when Adaar entered. Warmth being no small feat in a mountain fortress, Adaar happily shrugged off his clothes and wrapped himself in a warm woven robe. He sat before the fire for an hour reading the reports left on his desk, but when the words began to swim on the page he stopped reading to stare at the flames. He’d nearly fallen asleep where he sat, lulled by the crackling fire and its warmth, when he heard footsteps on his chamber stairs. He didn’t need to turn his head to know who had joined him.

“Kadan.” Bull’s voice was deep and low, and Adaar could feel it resonating in his own chest. Playfully, but firmly, Bull reached down and pulled Adaar to his feet by his horns.

“A certain elf told me you looked like you could stand to lose some control.” Bull’s single eye ran over Adaar, assessing him. “She’s not wrong.”

“Bull, I just can’t. Not tonight. I already expect Cullen to barge in here at dawn, full of urgent matters that can’t wait another minute. The usual.” Adaar didn’t try to hide the fatigue etching his voice.

Bull smiled. “Since when haven’t I known exactly what you need? Come with me.”

Adaar thought about refusing. But until their first time together, Adaar had never known the mixture of passion and relaxation he experienced with Bull. He didn’t know if he had the strength for some of the more strenuous activities Bull had introduced him to, but the thought of handing over control was too enticing to refuse. He reluctantly pulled his clothes back on, Bull watching him with appreciation the whole time, and then allowed Bull to lead him from the room.

Passing through the great hall in Bull’s company at least meant that Adaar didn’t receive the pleasantries and requests he’d dreaded running into only a short time before. There were stares from the visiting nobles enjoying their after-dinner wine, and Adaar was sure there would be plenty of quiet gossip once they’d left the room, but Bull’s confident stride and the guiding hand he’d laid between Adaar’s shoulder blades steered the Inquisitor through the room without assault.

Adaar was briefly annoyed when Bull turned toward the tavern after descending the great hall’s stairs, but instead of going inside, Bull led him up the stairs to the ramparts. Adaar shivered as they reached the top and wished he’d grabbed a coat. Nights in Skyhold were frigid, and he hoped whatever Bull had planned up here, it wouldn’t leave him tied up and left in the elements for a few hours.

Reading Adaar’s face as easily as a blood mage might have read his mind, Bull turned to the Inquisitor with an eyebrow raised. “Afraid I’m going to strip you naked and chain you to the stones somewhere all Skyhold can watch?” Bull laughed to see a blush racing up Adaar’s neck. “Not tonight, kadan. Maybe if it ever gets warmer than a witch’s tit up here.”

Adaar was slightly relieved when Bull led him to a partly-renovated watchtower, and surprised when Bull pulled open the door. Adaar had expected piles of stones, an open roof, and perhaps a straw pallet on the stone floor. Instead, he walked into a cozy room warmed by a fire. Detritus lay in the corners, but there was also a Qunari-sized bed covered in furs and quilts, and a table laid with various bottles: some filled with alcohol, some with lubricating oil.

Adaar turned to Bull with a playful grin, “Is there where you used to seduce all those servant girls?”

Bull chuckled, “No seduction needed there, boss. I might have brought one or two here. Jealous?”

 “Hardly.” Adaar moved close and pressed his forehead to Bull’s chest. “Maker, I’m exhausted.”

Bull cupped Adaar’s face in his hands, and raised it to his own. Adaar expected the familiar expressions of mastery and control that accompanied his nights with Bull. This time, however, Bull looked concerned. Instead of throwing Adaar on the bed or reaching for the leather strap lying nearby, he leaned down and began a slow kiss. Adaar relaxed into the kiss, allowing Bull’s tongue to tease and probe his mouth.

“Get those clothes off; we’ll be plenty warm in bed.”

By the time Adaar had stripped, Bull was already between the sheets and holding up the covers for Adaar to climb in beside him. Adaar gladly climbed into the bed and pressed his back into Bull’s chest for warmth. Bull’s hands roved Adaar’s arms and chest, drawing out the cold and giving him time to settle in. Adaar relaxed easily, mentally passing control to his partner. If Bull decided to march him naked back outside, Adaar would comply, relieved that at least all decisions were now beyond his control.

As soon as their combined body heat had driven the chill from them, Bull reached under his pillow and held a black piece of cloth in Adaar’s sight. “Close your eyes.”

Adaar complied, and felt the blindfold being secured over his eyes. Considering how many captured prisoners the Chargers must have blindfolded, he wasn’t surprised that the cloth had been folded and stitched so that no light reached him once the blind was fastened behind his head.

Bull shifted in bed, and for a moment Adaar could feel him moving beside him, preparing Maker knew what before requiring Adaar to submit to him. Bull’s hand traced Adaar’s left ear, and then the Inquisitor felt a pliable substance being pressed inside it. Wax. Bull was closing down his senses. Bull next shifted Adaar’s head to work wax into his right ear, blocking all sound as surely as he had blocked all light. Adaar’s breathing slowed and deepened as he adjusted to the limitations Bull had imposed. The world was gone, and only Bull’s touch remained.

As Bull’s hands roamed his body, Adaar felt every touch as a claim on him. He felt Bull hardening against him. Adaar wasn’t sure how he’d physically get through -- even stay awake for -- a session with Bull tonight, but it wasn’t up to him to worry any more.

Instead of issuing commands or positioning Adaar into place, Bull simply continued to stroke Adaar’s body. He lowered his head to kiss Adaar’s neck and shoulders as his hands moved over Adaar’s stomach, approaching but never touching his groin.

Naked, wrapped in the embrace of the man he trusted like no other, feeling Bull’s rough hands and soft kisses, Adaar felt the exhaustion sink into him. He’d never felt so spent, so undone, so unable to continue being the hope of all Thedas. All he wanted was this -- a warm bed and Bull’s body -- and both could be denied him with a stroke of Corypheus’ hand.

With that thought, the dam that had been cracking throughout the week burst in a flood. He’d meant to tell Bull only that he’d be glad when this was all over and, one way or the other, he’d be freed from serving as Inquisitor. Instead, Adaar couldn’t stop the words from flowing out. For what seemed like an age, he poured out to Bull all the frustration and anger over the never-ending rifts that must be closed, the long marches that ended in only small victories, and every pair of eyes that begged him to be a saviour he wasn’t sure he could be. The emotions he’d been desperately holding in check escaped with the torrent of words, and when Adaar stopped for breath, he realized his blindfold was wet with tears. Ashamed to show such weakness, he tried to reach up to dry his face, only to find his arms held firmly against his chest.

Bull didn’t release his grip as he positioned Adaar to lie on his back. Adaar felt Bull’s left thigh part his legs, and Bull’s mouth descended onto his at the same moment as he moved his groin against Adaar’s. In the darkness and the silence, Adaar’s world was reduced to two points on his body, points which Bull manipulated as he licked and stroked, gave and denied. Adaar returned Bull’s attentions wantonly, desperately, drawing relief from every second of pleasure Bull provided. Bull deepened the kiss as he ground his body against Adaar’s, and his mouth caught Adaar’s screams as the two found release together.

His hands freed, Adaar reached out for Bull’s face and drew him close for another kiss. Bull broke away to kiss and lick his way down Adaar’s body, his hands gently massaging and stroking Adaar’s skin as he went. When no part of him was left wanting Bull’s touch, Adaar was rolled back onto his right side and felt Bull move behind him once more. The wax was gently removed from his right ear, then his left. Bull made soothing hushing sounds for a few moments, letting Adaar adjust. Then, feeling Bull’s hands move to the blindfold’s ties, Adaar closed his eyes tightly. The cloth fell from his eyes, and Adaar let himself adjust to the light a little before opening his eyes. He lay quietly, drawing peace from Bull’s presence.

Eventually, Adaar turned to face his lover. “Is that how all the Ben-Hassrath get your prisoners to talk?”

Bull smiled and reached out to stroke Adaar’s cheek. “A naked Qunari didn’t tend to get much out of prisoners beyond pleas for their dignity.” He pulled Adaar closer. “You needed to talk, and distractions get in the way. And now you feel better.”

Adaar nodded. “I do. I always do. But I have to go. I wasn’t joking about Cullen showing up at dawn.”

Bull kissed Adaar’s cheek and wrapped his arms around his chest. “Stay, kadan. Just you and me tonight.”

Adaar needed no further invitation. As he allowed sleep to take over, he was thankful that for this night, he did not have to be the Inquisitor or the Herald of Andraste. Tonight, kadan was the only title he needed to wear.


End file.
